Scratch
by yaoigirl22
Summary: Rewrite of Guardian Angel: Mikey kept scratching at the wall. 2K12 What If of Clash of the Mutanimals
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: So this is my rewrite of Guardian Angel story, I felt like it needed one, and especially since I've gotten back into the fandom thanks to the 2k12 turtles. They are so ADORABLE, especially Leo, and Mikey. Anyway for those who have read the old one, welcome back! Those who are new, enjoy!_**

 ** _This is a What If of S3E15 Clash of the Mutanimals._**

 ** _Warnings: Mind-control, rape, and moral questionable healing techniques (in my opinion anyway)_**

 ** _ ** _On with the show!_**_**

* * *

 **Scratch**

 **Prologue:**

There have been days when Splinter wished for nothing more than five minutes of silence from his sons, well, five minutes that didn't end with something or other breaking, or a messy home.

His wish finally came, and he hated it.

His footsteps echo as he silently left his room, and dojo, his twitchy tail and ears the only give away of his otherwise calm posture. He stopped at the kitchen, he opened the freezer to greet Ice-Cream Kitty, the usually happy creature was slumped and her soft meow told of a sadness and heartbreak that was similar to Splinter's. After closing the door, he went about making a lunch, a light meal of soup that was more broth then anything else. With practice ease, he gathered the bowled, and trayed meals, and started his rounds.

His first stop was the lab, mainly because it was closer. He paused just as he was passing the empty, and quiet living room, dubbed pit, dark eyes staring almost pleading for _**something**_.

It never came.

Inwardly sighing, he continued on to the lab, his ears perked up when he found it empty. His heart started racing, and his mind began to panic.

Nononononono— _"Calm, think."_

Hands slightly trembling, he changed his course, and headed to the bedrooms. Using he tail, he was able to get one of the doors open, and quietly made his way inside. The lights were on, and the usual neat if cluttered room, was a mess. And in that mess was Donatello. His first youngest was at his desk, scribbling away on some paper, voice lower as he mumbled to himself. The words were quick, too quick for Splinter to make sense of the ones his ears could catch.

He sighed, relieved.

"Donatello," he said, announcing his presence.

Everything stopped as his son looked at him, "Sensei."

Those unique eyes of red, and brown shined with pain, past tears, and a type of weary fatigue that had nothing to do with a late night project.

"I've brought you something to eat, you were not at breakfast." He said as he came over, with movement that came from years of practice, Splinter placed one of the trays down, taking notice of his son less then healthy complexion.

"Thank you Sensei," Don said, "I didn't realize."

Splinter said nothing, but gave a reassuring smile, the smile slipping away when his son didn't touch the food. Merely went back to his work.

"What are you working on?" He asked.

"The designs for a new toaster," was his answer.

Their current one didn't need to be fix, it was perfectly fine.

His son just didn't want to think.

Splinter left, knowing that when he came back, the food would be cold, and untouched.

Just as before.

His next stop, was his second eldest.

Raphael had taken to hiding in his room, most would have expected his most hot-headed and passionate son to be letting his anger out on either the punching bag, whatever or whoever was unlucky enough to be in his way, or the cause of his anger. And in most cases that was true, however it was harder to fight an enemy when the enemy was you.

He greeted his son curled up on his bed, there was no reply, but he wasn't expecting one. Splinter is careful as he stepped over the messy floor, most of the items he noted, used to be on the now broken shelves. He placed the tray on the available space.

Raphael did not move.

"Please eat my son."

And with that he left, and to his eldest son's room. There wasn't much changed in this room, save for anything sharp, or potential dangerous, a precaution after _**it.**_

At least this son eats.

Finally, he went back to his room, where his youngest had taken resident, ever since….that day. Michelangelo was asleep, more than likely finally giving in to the lack of sleep. Letting him sleep, Splinter set the last of the trays down, before kneeling down by his son. He rubbed his son's head, before settling down for mediation. A lost cause, but one he desperately fought for.

 _ **~.~**_

The noise came back, but it was not the one he wished to hear, now, or ever.

Cries of pain, nightmares warped, but real.

It broke his heart.

A muzzled pulled back into a snarl, _"Curse you Saki!"_

A whimper had him reining in his anger, gentle hands rubbed the shaking carapace, a much beloved lullaby hummed. Eventually the whimpering tampered off, the shaking stopped, but the tears still flowed. After he did all he could for his sons, he settled down in his usual spot in the dojo.

His family was hurting, bonds had been broken with no healing insight.

Maybe not ever.

"…It will not come to that."

He will not lose his sons.

Not to nightmares, not to Saki, not even to themselves.

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 ** _Let Me Know What You Think!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Scratch**

 _For what felt like forever, the last thing Donnie will remember, is him saying, "We will use the small one as a test run."_

Mikey had an itch.

It was persist itch, that often went away but then came back with a vengeance. Oddly enough, whenever he tried to scratch at it, something always stopped him. It wasn't a bad something, it was warm, familiar, safe.

Like Papa.

" _Could be because we're all worried about him,"_ the turtle thought with a frown.

Lately their father had been looking tired, _**older.**_

All three had asked Donnie what could be causing this, but their resident genius had no idea. At first, Donnie thought it was leftover stress, or a lingering injure from when the mind-controlled Spike, and Rockwell had attacked them, and kidnapped Raph. But after a physical examination, to which Splinter patiently endured, Donnie concluded that an injury wasn't the case. And while he didn't throw out the stress theory completely, Donnie was starting to doubt.

Making a face when the itching came back, Mikey tried to focus on making dinner. Maybe if he ignored it, it'll go away, forever this time.

It didn't.

 _ **~.~**_

All it would take was a tight grip, a twist of his wrist, and bones would snap. Leaving his brother helpless, vulnerable, easier to bruise, to bleed, to hurt.

It _**terrified**_ Leo.

Why?

Why did he want to hurt Mikey? Why did he want to make his baby brother bruised, and bleed?

He tried meditation, it always helped, but this time, in lieu of an answer; he found a dark want. Something he knew he experienced once before, and felt was the answer to everything, but before he could so much as _**reach**_. He's pushed away, firmly, and like a warning.

Want forgotten, but the desire is still there.

 _ **~.~**_

He was told that they rescued him from the Shredder, they said that his anger was the downfall for the worms. They said he was in the crazy human's control for only a few hours.

They were wrong…..at least, that's what he felt that they were. Something about their story was off.

It could be because he couldn't remember anything beyond Shredder telling him to attack his brothers, but he could remember the incidents before his capture, even bits, and pieces of when the worm was inserted into him.

It was not just a few hours.

 _ **~.~**_

Mikey was small.

It was something that always been in the back of his mind, like a random fact. And he never gave it much thought unless he needed to.

Now, he couldn't _**stop**_ thinking about it.

Stop thinking about how it would be so easy to push, and hold his brother down. Wrap his hands (so much bigger than his little brother's) around that vulnerable throat, and squeeze, and squeeze, and _**squeeze.**_ Until struggling breath cease, blue eyes rolled into the back of his head, and twitching limbs stopped moving.

Donnie wanted it to stop.

It didn't, instead, it got worst.

Brown-red eyes will follow his brother, and he'll imagine how his hands will spread legs, pull away that tail that will be covering (always covering, until it wasn't) the thing he wanted _**more**_ than squeezing the life out of his brother.

It was hard to breathe during those times, hard to _**think**_ (think about equations, mutagen, anything but _**that**_ ), he needed to get away, to hide. So he does, closing, and locking his door, ignoring the knocking on his door, flinching at the calling voice.

He had to stay far away from his baby brother.

 _ **~.~**_

"Get off, _**get off!**_ "

The weight, that was usually annoying at best, but never fear. Is off of him, and Mikey is scrambling to his feet, putting distance between him, and his brother, heart pounding, and an odd sense of panic had him near shaking.

 _ **Why**_ was this happening?

"Michelangelo?"

Splinter was staring at him, so were his brothers, Mike tried to smile, but it came out shaky.

"You okay bro?" asked Raph, moving toward him.

Mikey took a step back.

Raph froze.

A tense silence fell over them, it felt familiar, like they've been through this before. Like his brothers were predator, and he was prey.

Mikey felt an itch.

"Michelangelo."

The youngest turtle jumped at the sharp tone, and looked wide-eyed at his father, confused as to what he had done wrong. Splinter's expression went soft, older, tired.

"I believe that is enough for today."

After they were dismissed, Splinter watched the boys leave, watched as his youngest flinched away when his eldest sibling accidently brushed against him. When the door slid close, his shoulders slumped, fingers coming up to message the spot where the persist headache had pounded away during training.

He was contemplating on getting some tea to help, when his shoulders suddenly tensed.

Michelangelo was scratching again.

 _If there was one truth in life, it was that Mikey loved, and trusted his brothers above anything else._

* * *

 _ **So, what do you guys think Splinter did?** _

**_Let Me Know What You Think!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Scratch**

 _They give him a weapon, it wasn't his chucks, but it was a weapon none the less._

" _Attack him."_

 _It was useless._

" _It seems your improvements are living up to expectations. However, there is one more test I want to do, to ensure it is successful."_

Everyone was where they should be, Leo was watching his show, Donnie was tinkering away in his lab, Raph was playing on the pinball machine, and Mikey was in the kitchen fixing one of his food experiments.

Everyone was where they should be.

Then why did Mikey find himself keeping an eye on the kitchen entrance? Why didn't he want to turn his back? Why did even the simplest of sound had him gripping the butter knife so tightly, he's not sure if his hand will break first, or the knife? Why did Ice-Cream Kitty sometimes look a little sad when she looked at him?

Why was he scared of his brothers?

 _ **~.~**_

 _Faces deformed, wrapped into something wicked, and cruel. Their hands are crueler, bruising, and made him bleed. Their laughter is wrong, so, so, wrong. Eyes doll-like, lifeless._

" _Please," he begged, throat scratchy, and hurting from all the crying._

"—ikey."

" _Please."_

 _Smiles, ugly, terrible smiles._

"Mi—"

" _Please, don't."_

 _Behind them,_ _ **he**_ _spoke. "Do it."_

"—ikey, Mikey!"

Blue eyes opened to the familiar face of his brother Raph hovering over him, green eyes worried.

Michelangelo screamed.

 _ **~.~**_

Sensei focused on katas, and meditation for today's session.

Mikey knew it was because of him, of his nightmare that felt so real, how he had screamed at Raph, then at Leo, and Donnie when they came rushing in to stay away. Flinching when they had moved closer to comfort him, it's only when Splinter had finally made it to his room, and into his arms, did he calm down, his sobbing, and hiccupping muffled from where he had buried his face in the robe, and fur.

He doesn't hear his father tell his brothers to go back to bed, he just clung to his Papa as he carapace was rubbed.

He did not go back to sleep.

A familiar mental nudge had Mikey focusing back on his mediation, it doesn't take him long to find his meditative plane, and lets the unique warmth settle him. He's not sure when, but he suddenly felt another nudge, this one just as familiar as the first. However, it was shy, unsure, and questioning.

Mikey pushed his brother away.

"We are done for today," Splinter said, easing out his mediation an hour later, "you have all done well."

Ignoring Leo's gaze, and waiting for his last sibling to leave through the dojo door, Mikey wanted nothing more to cling to his Papa again, because he still didn't understand, and he still had an itch.

 _ **~.~**_

April and Casey haven't visited them lately, and in all honesty, Donnie doesn't want them to. Not with how things have been.

" _Speaking of which,"_ the turtle glanced away from his laptop at his little brother who was making his way out the lair, skateboard under his arm, body language telling the resident genius that the other was very much aware of his following gaze.

Mikey didn't even ask them to come along.

Biting his bottom lip, Donnie turned his attention back to his laptop once his brother was out of sight, with a click he pulled up the T-phone tracker. He watched as the dot that was his little brother's location get further, and further away from the lair.

He wanted to follow, his brother would be alone, easier to take down and….…Donnie slammed his laptop shut hard. Heart hammering something fierce, throat dry, he gulped. When he stood, he noticed that his hands were shaking, quickly he headed to his lab. All but tossing his laptop down once inside, he picked up something, he's not sure what, he just hoped it keep his mind _**far**_ away from his brother.

 _ **~.~**_

Sensei didn't want them going to the surface (and all honesty, it was definitely a bad idea, but maybe. Just maybe, being out of the home will help), the reasoning was vague. But, they figured that was because the mind-control, and kidnapping was still a fresh wound for their father, it would also explain how tired, and old he had been looking lately. So they stayed home for their father's peace of mind.

It wasn't long however, before they started to grow restless for various reasons, and Splinter caved under reasoning, and puppy-eyes. Dark eyes watching his sons leave with a worried gaze, and a pounding heart.

 _He is bruised, sore, and covered in cuts. And when the ones who caused it enter his cell, there is no fear, anger, or bitterness. He can't feel any of those things about them._

 _(It wasn't their fault)_

 _Even when he is held, and forced to his knees._

 _(It wasn't their fault)_

 _Even when his mouth is forced open._

 _(It wasn't their fault)_

 _When his legs are spread._

 _(It wasn't their fault)_

 _Then they spoke._

 _(It wasn't their fau—)_

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 ** _Review Please!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Scratch**

Within the hours his children were gone, Splinter has paced his room, the dojo, kitchen, den, and the entrance of the home, a deep anxious feeling in his chest, when his sons finally, _**finally**_ returned; earlier than usual. Splinter is back in the dojo, meditating, ears perked, and alert for anything.

He heard laughter.

It was…..not one of the sounds he was expecting to hear.

Curious, he slid the door open, and quietly made his way out, keeping out of sight just so. His sons were laughing, bright-eyed, genuine smiles, and unharmed. Playfully pushing against each other as they headed for the kitchen, most likely to eat.

Splinter watched them with equal parts hope, and dread.

 _ **~.~**_

The good mood lasted for three days.

April came by for a visit, and it was very awkward, not because no one was talking. There was plenty that, it just felt like their human friend was holding back something, _**hiding**_ something, something that made the guilt in her eyes shine bright whenever she looked at them.

Mikey was sure it had something to do with the itch.

"Casey keeps complaining about not being able to play any hockey because of his leg." She told them on her second visit.

"When did Casey break his leg?" Lea asked.

April paused, "Erm, a while ago I think."

"How long is while ago?" This question came from Raph

"Why—"

"April."

"Two months ago I think."

"How did he break it?"

"During practice I think he said, geez, what's with the interrogation guys?"

Neither answer, just glanced at each other, something April missed in lieu of Donnie returning with her soda, Casey had been with them, patrolling the city, and had only _ **sprained**_ his ankle because of landing wrong on a jump, not broken it. And it wasn't two months ago, it was three…wasn't it?

Mikey came out the dojo, having finished his talk with Splinter, the youngest turtle paused to waved at April who waved back. Then he was heading to his room, his brothers' eyes watching him go.

April noticed.

She didn't say a word…..at least not to them.

 _Splinter called him because while he was well-versed in the working of the mind on a mystical level. Science had also been involved._

 _Donatello unfortunately, was not an option._

 _Thus, Dr. Rockwell._

 _Who, upon hearing Splinter's plan, would have easily said no—There were so many moral wrongs— if it wasn't for the fact that Splinter was_ _ **begging**_ _for his help. Was on his knees._

 _He said yes._

 _And when they brought in April, she said yes as well._

 _ **~.~**_

"My son?"

….What?...Why was he in the hall? He had gone to bed right? He did, and had been dreaming…..what _**had**_ he been dreaming about?

"Raphael?"

Raph jumped, bewildered, and slightly terrified thoughts interrupted, after a moment he turned his head and found his father standing there, head tilted just slightly in curiosity, and dressed in his night clothing.

"Is something the matter?" Splinter asked worried.

"I-I—" Raph looked back at his brother door, then down at his hand wrapped around the doorknob, before quickly shaking his head. "Nothing Sensei," he answered releasing the knob, "goodnight."

Splinter didn't stop him, just watched his child walk away, and to his room. Afterwards, he glanced at his youngest child's room.

The hope was getting dimmer.


End file.
